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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24539710">SCP-049-96</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpha049_96/pseuds/Alpha049_96'>Alpha049_96</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SCP - Containment Breach, SCP Foundation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - SCP Foundation, F/M, SCP, Short Story, anecdote</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:54:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24539710</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpha049_96/pseuds/Alpha049_96</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A new SCP joins Site-19 with an unprecedented ability and with a heinous plan. This anecdote expresses her interactions with two familiar SCPs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>SCP-049-96</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Alpha (aka SCP-049-96) is my character, do not use her without permission, please. Fanart is acceptable. This anecdote will be related to an SCP x Reader I am currently drafting, and any questions on Alpha would most likely be answered in that fanfiction (I will be posting the x Reader on Wattpad, Quotev, Fanfiction, and maybe here, but no promises. Also, I wrote this anecdote BEFORE I changed Alpha's Object Class to "Thaumiel").</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“In time, the gods of Greece forged a weapon, a biological weapon performed to protect all that is superior… to rid the world of plaguing diseases, to rid the world of reigning darkness, and to rid the world of unnecessary lives. The weapon will hide among humanity, hiding behind its mask of despair, with a touch hungering for emotion. It will bond all magical creatures, it will subdue the largest tsunamis, it will crumble the mightiest mountains, and it will form an alliance between beastkind and mankind. Furnished in black, the masked weapon will take to the skies, cities will burn under its wings of old, men will bleed from its dragon blade, and the world will be cleansed or burned…”<br/>
</p><p>The doctor in white, green eyes flashing with wonder, slaps his notes closed. He slides his leather boots off the desk and peers through the glass with determination. The other doctor beside him, a thin woman with blond hair, startles at her partner’s sudden action. She directs her gaze back to the one-way glass pane, watching the dark, hooded figure saunter toward the sitting, malnutritioned, pale SCP. The sitting SCP covers its bagged face with clawed, slender fingers, sobbing relentlessly into its palms. But the hooded humanoid donned with a white, plastic mask, painted with black tears and red smile, expresses not an ounce of fear.<br/>
</p><p>'No hesitation,' the female scientist notes. 'Courage. Curiosity.'<br/>
</p><p>The two doctors nearly hold their breaths as the hooded SCP approaches SCP-096, the sobbing entity that squirms and shakes with every heart-filled sob. They were the sobs of a child, attracting the instincts of a compassionate mother, but every intelligent being in the Foundation knew better. They are smart enough to not peer at SCP-096’s head, though now a paper sack shields its head. Instead, the scientists watch SCP-049-96’s movements, jotting crucial notes within her and SCP-096’s postures and actions.<br/>
</p><p>“Alpha,” Dr. Jack Bright, an SCP scientist at Site-19, calls it. Alpha methodically and deliberately steps its black, steel-toed boots from heel to toe toward the weeping SCP. It tilts its head, the eyes behind the black netting of its mask directed to SCP-096’s protruding ribs. This pale, large SCP anchors Alpha’s heart.<br/>
</p><p>“Child…” Alpha’s voice is feminine, angelic, lyrical and silky, and resonant and deep behind its mask. She is a foot’s distance from the sobbing SCP, which still appears absent-minded toward her presence. Alpha tilts her hand and slowly lifts a right, gloved hand. Her fingers meticulously outstretch, her arm pushing her hand to 096’s bicep -- though it lacks muscle structure.<br/>
</p><p>The male scientist behind the glass locks his fingers together, resting his chin above them. The female scientist glances at him and then back to Alpha, her mouth slightly agape. She taps her pen on her parchment, observing the SCP’s behavior.<br/>
</p><p>Alpha’s fingers graze 096’s arm and then coil around its porcelain flesh. Her grip is gentle, soothing, and she massages its flesh with her thumb while humming. SCP-096’s sobbing falters and its shaking shoulders freeze.<br/>
</p><p>The female scientist’s heart skips a beat, her pen scratching her notepad violently. The male scientist pins his nose between his fingers and exhales, too immersed to write observations.<br/>
</p><p>Alpha turns and sits beside the SCP, her shoulder brushing against his arm. The male scientist widens his eyes as SCP-096 leans into the smaller humanoid, but its sobs resume, almost harder than before. It lowers its arms, slumping them onto the cold floor. The scientist can barely hear Alpha soothe, “I’m here,” to the Euclid SCP.<br/>
</p><p>“You hear her?” he asks his female partner.<br/>
</p><p>The woman nods. “Yes; I’m here. She knows him?”<br/>
</p><p>The male scientist squints his eyes as he watches Alpha’s interaction with SCP-096. She rubs its shoulders and picks at the brown paper bag that protects its head. He unconsciously tilts his head as Alpha rests her head against its arm, resuming her croons.<br/>
</p><p>Eventually, the man shakes his head. “No. Pay attention, doctor…”<br/>
</p><p>The woman nods as she glues her eyes on the two, watching their backs intensely. SCP-096, after a few minutes of crying, releases spastic exhales and scrunches itself smaller (as small as it can) and nudges itself into Alpha’s torso. It’s crying ceases, however, it seemingly continues to pout. Alpha strokes its shoulder, humming a sleepsong lullaby to it.<br/>
</p><p>“Alpha’s behavior is maternal,” the woman observes, her mouth agape and eyes widened. “This is new.” The woman taps her pen on her notes. “She exhibited friendly or dominant behavior around all the other SCPs. Why now is she exhibiting maternal behavior?”<br/>
</p><p>The male scientist taps his chin in deep thought. After a minute, he raises his index finger. “Perhaps, it was its cries. It is not unusual for a woman to express a maternal instinct to even someone older than her. A good mother would even seek to comfort the pains of those that are not kin. Alpha has touched it, she has seen its pain… therefore, her instincts kicked in. She may need to touch an organism to feel its emotions… but her instincts are pure.”<br/>
</p><p>Alpha glances behind her at the sheet of glass and then at the paper sack nuzzling into her chest. The female SCP huffs and then peels the sack with her free hand, humming and stroking its shoulder.<br/>
</p><p>Both scientists tense; What is she doing?<br/>
</p><p>SCP-096 shudders and babbles softly, almost like an upset newborn, but Alpha only continues to remove the sack. She shushes and soothes as she does so, humming in between her comforts.<br/>
</p><p>“Let me see you,” she singsongs in a gentle whisper. “Child, I will see you for who you are… no need to hide from me. I will protect you…”<br/>
</p><p>After her soft song, the sack was completely removed. She tossed it without care. SCP-096 straightens slightly, enough to give Alpha a leveled look, its milky, pupil-less eyes staring into the black holes of her mask. Dried blood decorates around its mouth, its mouth grimacing into a frown -- a saddened frown. Alpha remains bold, massaging its arm.<br/>
</p><p>“I see you,” Alpha whispers. “I see you, child. You are beautiful.” Her leather-lined, black polyester glove strokes its pale cheek, the SCP collapsing into a joyful sob at her thighs. Alpha strokes its smooth, bald head, singing a lullaby, noticeably in a different language.<br/>
</p><p>The two scientists didn’t realize their mouths were catching flies. The man was the first to snap from his stupor. “Did you take the notes?”<br/>
</p><p>“Ah -- yes!” the woman barks, scribbling into the notepad. When she finishes, she looks back at her gawking partner. “Is there an explanation as to why it didn’t attack her once she saw his face?”<br/>
</p><p>“Of course there is!” the man remarks. “We… just don’t know why yet. But it has to be why she was able to divert her eyes from 173 without dying… I hypothesize it is her empathic abilities… or perhaps, even telepathy. I can only see it that way…”<br/>
</p><p>“The weapon casts a great spell upon magical creatures and humans alike, allured, its people with the fidelity to serve upon contact. Its power can bring life, tranquility and death, destruction. Its path forks into a sanctuary, a place to protect the organisms and gods of Earth, its path forks to monarchy, ruling atop a stone throne in which the Earth is scorched and ash. The weapon calls to its companions with its touch, turning its treacherous foes into loyal allies, mounted atop a winged serpent of elder days…”<br/>
</p><p>The male scientist clears his throat. “I will speak with Dr. Bright about this…”<br/>
</p><p>The woman tilts her head. “About what, exactly, sir?”<br/>
</p><p>The scientist sighs. “Alpha still has yet to be introduced to the final SCP at this site. She is only allowed a bi-weekly visit with an SCP, but I will have to speak with Bright about a possible second visit on the same day. I’m sure he won’t mind, he favors Alpha.”<br/>
</p><p>“You’ve seen how she acts around him?”<br/>
</p><p>“She’s passive. But do not fret, she is still Euclid. Her nature is unpredictable… and my gut’s hunch is telling me that she’s worse than a Keter Class.”<br/>
</p><p>The woman nods. “I agree. Something… doesn’t add up. Those notes on that prophecy… you sure?”<br/>
</p><p>The man nods firmly. “I’m sure.” </p><p>****</p><p>	The male scientist strides through an electromagnetic door, the metal gateway creaking and slamming shut behind him. Within the cell is a neat lab, beakers, and tubes stacked atop the counters, trays of surgical tools lined with antique anatomy books, and a whitened operating table recently cleaned of its latest victim. Two vested SCP staff members clutch a large pole each, latching onto a collar lock around the SCP’s neck, extension restraints trapping its gloved hands. The humanoid entity cloaks itself in all-black leather, a medieval doctor, its chitin bird mask protruding from its raised hood, and eerie silverish-blue eyes intensely pierce at the male scientist. The SCP kneels wisely, but still, its threatening stare breaks the scientist into a cold sweat.<br/>
</p><p>The Euclid SCP suddenly raises its beak. “I don’t imagine I’ve done a single thing wrong, doctor.” The SCP’s deep, resonant voice becomes slightly muffled, evil, and almost robotic through its mask.<br/>
</p><p>“You haven’t.” The scientist keeps his distance as he circles to the operating table.<br/>
</p><p>The SCP’s beak follows the man. “Are you feeling well, doctor?”<br/>
</p><p>The scientist glares at the Plague Doctor but nervously swallows. “Just dandy. You?”<br/>
</p><p>“Just dandy,” the SCP imitates with a shrug and eye roll, but it tosses the tone of its voice around, with condescension in the form of sarcasm. The SCP snaps its gaze back to the scientist aggressively, its gaze becoming hard again. “Mind telling me why this foundation’s personnel is intruding upon my space, though I haven’t done anything? It’s quite clear I’m not going somewhere. I have work to do, doctor, and my time shan’t be wasted upon this… chatter.”<br/>
</p><p>The scientist crosses his arms. “Come now, we’re both men of science. Allow me to explain something to you…” The scientist pulls out his notepad and flips it open. “Many months ago we brought in a new SCP. We have not given her a code yet, but Dr. Bright has given her the nickname --”<br/>
</p><p>“Alpha,” the SCP remarks, nodding quickly multiple times. “My interview with Dr. Bright sidetracked with him mentioning this new SCP. I’ll admit, I have a slight curiosity, but then again, we all do with new folk.”<br/>
</p><p>The scientist glares at the plague doctor, and the SCP’s eyes flash and pierce into the man’s soul. The scientist continues, “Anyway, she has already visited the other SCPs here… and earlier today she visited with SCP-096, 049.”<br/>
</p><p>SCP-049 tilts its head. “096? Last I visited him, he was miserable. Then again, he was tortured all his life… a shame I can’t cure him of his pestilence…”<br/>
</p><p>“She looked upon his face.”<br/>
</p><p>049 deliberately tilts its head back to the doctor, its eyes giving a hint of curiosity. No expressions can permeate its emotions, therefore staff and doctors deciphered its feelings via body language, tone, and eyes. “Oh?”<br/>
</p><p>“The Shy Guy did not attack, nor show any signs of aggression. Alpha has shown to be friendly or dominant toward all the other SCPs… until 096.”<br/>
</p><p>“She mothered him. Come now, it takes no rocket scientist to figure that out.” SCP-049 flicks its head with a derisive snort.<br/>
</p><p>The man scoffs. “Her bond with him was strong enough to have her cry when we separated them. SCP-049, in a few minutes, staff will be bringing her here for you to meet and talk to.”<br/>
</p><p>SCP-049 peers at the doctor, its eyes intense and fierce with a glare. “You honestly think that’ll be worth my time? As interested as I am in her, I am busy.”<br/>
</p><p>“You will be free from the restraints once she’s here, doctor,” the man retorts.<br/>
</p><p>049 cocks its head again, and if the scientist wasn’t so observant, he wouldn’t have noticed the SCP’s eyes soften the slightest.<br/>
</p><p>“However, based on the interactions she has with the other SCPs…,” the doctor scratches his neck, “I have reason to believe she’s possibly immune to your touch.”<br/>
</p><p>“She’s an SCP, doctor,” 049 mentions harshly, but its tone is matter-of-factly. It gives a quick, small nod. “Yes, the SCPs are above your levels of understanding. My touch did not harm 096. It did not harm 035. I doubt it’ll harm Alpha.”<br/>
</p><p>The doctor nods, his face softening with relief. “I believe to have found something of her origin… it seems to fit her, and I was hoping you could help. You claim to have come from the 1500s in France… 035 claims to have been created by the Greek gods… I believe, based on archeological findings and a prophecy from Greece, that Alpha is of Greek origin, born during your time period.”<br/>
</p><p>“035 tells me the gods ‘disappeared’ before then.” The male scientist recognizes a dreadful tone in SCP-049’s voice, a tone of disbelief, but with a hint of worry.<br/>
</p><p>'Why would the Plague Doctor worry?'<br/>
</p><p>The male scientist decides to ask this question, his mouth parting -- the electromagnetic doors creak and whoosh open. The staff holding SCP-049 in place tighten their grips on the poles but observes the group that enters. Two armed guards, masked with motorcycle-like helmets and “SCP” vests point the nozzles of their automatic rifles at 049’s chest, but the Plague Doctor’s stormy eyes gaze between them. It stares intensely upon Alpha, the holes in her mask blankly staring back, her stance bold with clenched fists. Two guards stand behind Alpha, their guns remain submissive. The male scientist glances back and forth between the two alpha predators, noticing 049’s silver orbs flick up and down, studying Alpha intently.<br/>
</p><p>Alpha seems to shiver, but it is not cold in 049’s chambers, and she didn’t appear afraid. SCP-049 shifts, positioning itself higher on its knees, its chitin mask pointing directly to Alpha’s mask. The staff members holding the poles to its neck restraint slowly advance to SCP-049, one of them holding out a petite, fancy, oval gadget. 049’s collar restraint beeps, confirming with a green light, and then splits in half. The guards pull the rods away, taking half a collar with them. The other two guards in front of 049 continue to aim their rifles, and one of them barks, “Stand.”<br/>
</p><p>049 mumbles something as it stomps a leather boot on the ground, towering to its slightly over six-foot height, but it holds out its clenched hands as the other guard clicks off the restraints. Once the shackles fall, the guard retracts his arms swiftly, like a victim to a striking rattlesnake. SCP-049 pays no attention to the humans, but it massages its wrists and then rubs its covered neck.<br/>
</p><p>The guards pull back, two of them backing slowly with guns trained on 049, occasionally turning the nozzles to Alpha. The female SCP doesn’t appear to care. Alpha cranes her neck, lifting her chin and exhaling.<br/>
</p><p>The male scientist crosses his arms. “Alpha has requested --”<br/>
</p><p>“I can speak for myself, doctor,” Alpha muses, her voice hard.<br/>
</p><p>The scientist holds his hands in surrender. “All right. Ten minutes. I was only able to get ten minutes.”<br/>
</p><p>The scientist hastily makes his exit with the guards, the door shutting behind them. Alpha peers at SCP-049, moments of silence passing between them as they stare. A minute later, 049 breaks the silence with a sigh.<br/>
</p><p>“Perhaps we should actually communicate, my dear.” 049 flexes its gloved fingers and then takes a slow step forward.<br/>
</p><p>“One moment,” Alpha utters, her voice commanding. “I am going to extend our time.” Her fists clench. “Any moment…”<br/>
</p><p>A distant alarm abruptly blares, and 049 snaps its beak up in delight. A part of it felt impressed, and its eyes flash as it hears the P.A system blare SCP-096’s containment breach. 049’s silvery-blue eyes flick back to Alpha.<br/>
</p><p>“There,” she huffs. “That should be a couple of hours at most, then. 096 is an… interesting kid.”<br/>
</p><p>“Indeed.” 049 sighs and tilts its head. “So… I hear you talked to an old friend of mine.”<br/>
</p><p>“035? He spoke fondly of you. You must’ve been good friends with him for him to speak of you that way.”<br/>
</p><p>“We are old friends, bound to catch up on old times.”<br/>
</p><p>Alpha stares past 049 and studies the antique machinery behind it. “I hear you are a plague doctor… 035 told me your goal is to cure some… pestilence.”<br/>
</p><p>“Oh, indeed.” 049 shakes its head with a few tsks, as if pitying the nature of the alleged ailment. Its tone lures Alpha and her conscious whispers to her that it has told this to many scientists many times before. 049 almost sounded… tired from talking about it, since it doesn’t bother to put any other form of emotion in its exhausted tone. “It is everywhere. It diseases the very nature of humanity.”<br/>
</p><p>SCP-049 suddenly directs a harsh gaze toward Alpha. 049 deliberately places its boot forward, heel to toe, taking slow, calculated steps toward Alpha. Its eyes fiercely tear into the holes of her mask, a thud resonating throughout the chamber every time the SCP’s heel collides to the cemented ground. Alpha does not flinch; she does not move a muscle. Her head tilts upward as it advances closer and closer, the humanoid entity taller than her. Alpha exhales as 049 lifts its gloved hand and strokes its thumb against the white plastic of her mask, underneath her left eye. “Interesting…”<br/>
</p><p>“Excuse me?”<br/>
</p><p>SCP-049’s eyes flash. “How your mask is substantially embellished… makes me wonder what else you’ve made?”<br/>
</p><p>Alpha puffs out her chest, almost in pride, that someone else has noticed. “Why, good sir, I’m an artist! I always make my own appeals. I’ve forged my own longsword -- until they took it away that is,” she added in a low mumble. She pipes up; “But I also paint and draw… well enough that if anyone were to see a portrait of 096 I’ve made, it’s detailed enough to have him go berserk.”<br/>
</p><p>Alpha’s speech had subconsciously made 049 chuckle, but she didn’t care. 049 states, “So if you know art as well as you do, I believe you would know anatomy?”<br/>
</p><p>Alpha nods. “Of course I do. What artist doesn’t know basic anatomy? That would be like asking a surgeon if he knows how to handle a scalpel.” Her tone becomes harsh.<br/>
</p><p>049 nods. “My apologies, my dear. Now, I wouldn’t mind knowing where you come from?”<br/>
</p><p>“You first.”<br/>
</p><p>“France.” 049 crosses its arms. “Your turn.”<br/>
</p><p>Alpha tilts her head, silent for a moment. “Greece. 035 and I hit it off.”<br/>
</p><p>“Understandable.” 049 turns, its cloaked back facing the female SCP.<br/>
</p><p>“So, France? What was it like?”<br/>
</p><p>049 approaches its operating table, fixing its antique surgical lighthead. “Simple, poor, devastating.”<br/>
</p><p>“A plague?”<br/>
</p><p>“Yes, many. The doctors here seem to think the pestilence is the Bubonic Plague, or the Black Death, but I don’t know what that is.”<br/>
</p><p>“It was transferred by rats into Europe in 1347, less than two hundred years before you were born, 049.” Alpha links her fingers together as 049 turns its chitin beak, slightly enough so its tempestuous, silver iris gleams through the black hole of its mask. “It killed off two-thirds of Europe’s entire population. I can only imagine what it was like for you to treat patients during the plagues of your time, but those were nothing compared to Black Death. Could you imagine the stresses upon yourself if you were a doctor then?”<br/>
</p><p>049’s eye flashes and then it fully faces Alpha with a quick spin, its cloak swinging back to its legs dramatically. Its fingers furl into its gloved palms. Despite analyzing its suppressed anger, Alpha stays unphased. Like her, she sees the upset SCP trying to stay calm and relaxed. “Who… are you to assume my incapabilities of curing the ailed folk… if I was not in the timeframe of the Bubonic Plague?” Its voice shakes, straining to stay calm, but anger drips in every syllable.<br/>
</p><p>“The doctors told me you said so yourself…” Alpha takes a step toward SCP-049. The movement slightly shocks the plague doctor enough to release the tension in its fists, its head falls and glares through the tops of its eyes. It watches her carefully, seemingly analyzing each careful, non-tentative step, and it does not move. “... that you have yet to perfect your cure.” Alpha halts about a foot in front of it, her head level with its chest. “I do not question your methods, my good sir, as I can easily see you are doing it for the best intentions… humanity’s pestilence must be cured, after all.” As she soothes the Plague Doctor, her right arm reaches to its, her gloved hand tightly grasping its forearm. “Doctor, I can promise you something. I will breach this facility, and us anomalies will take to freedom… one day. And I promise you… Doctor… I will help your endeavors for this cure. I will help you cure the diseased, treat the ill, and cleanse the tainted soils of Earth’s pestilence. We will be out in time for the Great Pestilence, Doctor, and once we find its source, I promise you, I will burn it to whitened ash.” Alpha’s voice becomes stern, and while her grip calms the SCP, its previous upset and angered nature crept into Alpha’s veins. Negative emotions plague her tone. But SCP-049 listens, its beak rising in suppressed excitement and awe. Alpha huffs and strokes her thumb on 049’s sleeve, and due to the clothing being like a secondary skin, it shudders at the touch. “Doctor, I do hear you do not like distractions… nor the thought of trivial sentimentality… is that true?”<br/>
</p><p>“In order for my cure to be… most effective, I must concentrate all my energy on my experiments and research.” 049 tilts its head. “You are seriously not suggesting --”<br/>
</p><p>“I am suggesting an experiment, Doctor,” Alpha muses, her voice humming. “One that may bring us closer on our… endeavors. Would you not want me to keep my promise?”<br/>
</p><p>049 scoffs, flicking its beak into the air derisively. It peers away from the female SCP, her hand still grasping its arm. It automatically acknowledges she will not let go until she hears the answer she desires. The dark entity decides to answer, “For… experimental… purposes, am I correct?”<br/>
</p><p>Alpha nods. “We can make it… entertaining, if we see it fit.” 049 exhales sharply. “However, it’s best to refer it to the beginning of our venture. A true experiment. I need a faithful companion, and I see fit it be you, 049. I’m… assuming you can perform, correct?” She pulls her arm back, the doctor crossing its arms with a condescending snort.<br/>
</p><p>“Of course,” it quirks, almost angrily. It softens its voice. “I am male.”<br/>
</p><p>“Good.” Alpha takes one, slow, tantalizing step -- enough to push herself against the tall, dark SCP, her arms reaching up to its shoulders. 049 responds by placing its hands on her hips, beckoning them against its lap, collapsing its rear against the operating table. The table shudders, but both are too enticed in their experiment, blazing silvery-blue eyes of chaotic storms meeting the pitch-black orbs of an emotionless mask.<br/>
</p><p>Alpha purrs, “Shall we begin?”</p>
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